You've got mail
by Little-Firestar84
Summary: Written for the Mentalist Big Bang on Lj. In a Red John free future, Jane and Lisbon are struggling with finding love. But what happens when Grace plays Cupid, hoping that, falling in love on the net, will help them admitting their real feelings for each other? What will happen when they wil finally understand that May Flower and Alexanderson are, in reality, Teresa and Patrick?
1. Prologue

At the end, Red John's departure wasn't what they had been waiting for. Had they awaited drama, fireworks, or some big event… nobody got it. Life just went on like it normally did; it was just all a little bit simpler because there wasn't a serial killer breathing down their necks any longer. But, really, at the end, life was normal. Jane kept working with the team, staying on his couch and causing troubles; Lisbon kept staying in her office and going to crime scenes with him, doing her best at damage control. The team was still there- with the exception on Van Pelt, who was currently on maternity leave, and was tempted to turn into a staying-at-home mom just like her own.

Everything was still the same. And yet, it wasn't. Lisbon was scared by how things were frozen in time. It was like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop, to Jane to wake up one day and suddenly realize he didn't need to be there any longer -she hadn't told anyone yet, but she was adamant that the only reason Jane hadn't left yet was because he was in some kind of denial about the whole thing. Everybody could see how edgy she was, but Cho, as usual, just looked at her, trying to get a reaction, staying silent as to mind his own business; Rigsby didn't like to get involved and Jane just looked at her quizzically, inquiring about her sex life (or rather, lack of) chuckling. Only one person was "sane" enough to act as, indeed, a sane and normal human being would.

And that person was Grace Van Pelt-Rigsby.

Although now married to Wayne, the couple had both managed to stay on the team, but a series of facts – least but not last, the fact that technically she and Teresa weren't working together any longer- had gradually made sure that the two women got closer. After entering maternity leave, Grace and Lisbon had started having dinner together at a nice restaurant once a week, and twice a week they took a coffee (strong for Lisbon, decaffeinated for Grace) together, and talked about everything and anything.

Lately, the main topic of Lisbon's (lack of) conversation had been Teresa's fear- and determination- that the consultant was going to leave.

Every time they talked, a little piece of Grace's heart broke at the sight of Teresa in such a state. Lisbon, strong and determinate, the woman who had inspired Grace for over half a decade, was already broken-hearted over a man who had never even kissed her. The red-head couldn't help but think about a school-girl crush, and she didn't know if it was pathetic , or sweet, that Senior Agent in Charge Teresa Lisbon could feel, and behave, in such an uncharacteristic way at her age.

Actually, she thought it was rather sweet- and dumb, because she had always felt Lisbon and Jane had this huge connection, and that they were going to share this great life together, that they were destined to live the kind of love you could see only in movies and in novels. But even if Teresa didn't have any troubles admitting- to Grace and Grace alone- of her feelings for Jane (_"I know I feel something for him, I know it's deep, but I'm not sure I love him. I mean… I'm not even sure I've ever been in love before!), _the brunette wasn't going to say it at loud. It was too dangerous. A rejection by Jane wasn't something a woman could easily survive to, and what if he decided to stay? No. Teresa wasn't going to risk losing a friend just to get in return complete solitude.

Yet, that was what drove Grace mad. Lisbon was seeing the glass half-empty, thinking about Jane not loving her. But what if he did? Couldn't she see that there was room for eternal love as well? Grace and Wayne had been lucky, after all, they had found each other again, despite her attempt at marriage with O'Laughlin and his son with Sarah. Maybe, despite everything, there was room for happiness for the boss and Jane too. And Grace, even if now was as hard-assed as Lisbon, she still loved fairytales-like happy endings. And that was what she wanted for the two of them. And that was when, and why, she decided to take matters in her own hands, and be a cupid of sort for her second favorite couple in the whole wide world.

"I think you should start dating." Grace suddenly said, as casual as possible. Lisbon just lifted her eyebrows as she was simply questioning either Grace's sanity or she didn't know what the other woman was talking about. Grace blushed- and it made her hair look redder- but still, the (former) cop went on. "I mean… I'm not saying you should sleep around or get married. Just, you know, meet people."

On a conscious level, Lisbon knew Grace was right. It was a good move, after all. "Dating" could help knowing people- and maybe could also help her knowing a decent enough guy- and God only knew if she wasn't going to need an emotional safety net/support group once Jane decided that he had enough of them and of crime fighting. Her subconscious, though, and her stubborn heart, didn't want to hear anything about starting a relationship, of any kind, or even just dating, with someone who wasn't called Patrick Jane.

Then, there was also another problem, a little issue that her conscious mind didn't have any problem pointing at out loud. "I think that in the last… twelve years or so, even my one night stands have been work-related." Lisbon sighed. After she had made it to the CBI, she had been just too busy to get around to meet people. Everybody she knew, she did so through the job. And after she had gotten the Red John case and then Jane, the situation had just gotten worst: when she had slept with Mashburn, she had been over eighteen months without having had sex.

"Well, then, I think we should thank modern technology." Grace smirked, and took her brand new, shiny Blackberry Z-30 out of her purse and lifted her right finger before Lisbon's eyes, as to signal her friend to wait a minute. She kept looking at the screen, and touching it and then humming just to press the buttons, and then, as she put the device on the table, Teresa's phone rang, signaling an incoming message.

"You didn't." Lisbon sighed, but still, she was smiling , almost laughing. After all, hanging around with a younger woman could be fun, and Grace was full of surprises.

"You mean, did I just solve your problem of meeting people, by singing you with a free on-line dating site? Yes, I did." Grace smiled, shining. The years had been kind with hers, and despite everything, she would have never taken back her time with the CBI. Yes, bad things had happened, but there was also a lot of good. Not only Wayne, but also the way she had grown as a person, maturing. Like she had once told her husband: when she had joined the team, she had been just a kid. "I know you don't like this sort of things, so I was thinking that maybe I could, you know…"

"Pretend to be me?" Lisbon asked, lifting her eyebrows once again. She didn't know if Grace was a genius or plain crazy.

"Pretending is such a bad word! No, I was thinking about… skim your suitors. I would answer for you only if you would, And never in any other situation. I swear."

Lisbon looked at the welcoming message on her phone, and then looked at Grace. She wasn't wrong. This wasn't about getting married or being serious. This was about meeting people, making friends, having fun. In a certain sense, it was about getting ready for life after Patrick Jane- didn't matter if it seemed the title of a comic book or a b-series movie, it was the truth. So, smiling, Lisbon shook Grace's hand.

And she never saw the redhead crossing her fingers behind her back.


	2. Chapter 1

Grace had a plan in order to get Teresa to admit that she was in love with Jane- _to Jane –_but she was pretty sure that Lisbon didn't need to know about it. After all, Teresa would have never admitted such a thing to Jane himself. Not when she was sure that the mentalist didn't love her back and was on his way to leave once and for all. But, if she had to admit to herself, her plan was pretty great. And Teresa dearest wasn't even seeing this coming.

Grace created the prefect profile for the internet dating site. She said all things that were true, but in a way that made Lisbon seem like a fascinating and interesting woman and not just a strict bad-ass cop. She also choose a picture that made more than justice to her friend.; it had been taken the previous year, at some fundraiser event, and Teresa just looked "wow", for lack of a better word. Her hair had been made in shiny perfection, its natural waves elegant and not messy at all; the long, strap-less dress was becoming on her, the dark green the perfect match to her eyes and it made her glow. It was also sexy, but not too much. It was the right measure, that showed her curves by just hinting at them. In short, it belonged to a real woman, and not some starlette or a… well, an easy girl.

Men kept writing and asking for her. All kinds of men. But Grace had a plan. And her plan didn't include making Teresa fall in love with some idiot met on the internet. So, yes, Grace Van Pelt-Rigsby arranged dates for Teresa Lisbon. But it was only with idiots.

The plan was to make Teresa realize that Jane was the one and only for her, and that, as much as she was trying to look somewhere else for Mr. Right, he was right before her eyes. Teresa wasn't admitting at loud (to anyone else, at least) her feelings for Jane because she didn't want to admit that, as crazy as it could be, _he_ was the one for her. That it could work. But forced with the hard, though reality, Grace was sure Lisbon would have fallen under the pressure.

Only, she didn't.

And Grace's plan backfired. It had been a brilliant plan, until it wasn't any longer. Because Teresa wasn't going to stop dating any other man who wasn't Patrick Jane. Teresa wanted to swore off dating. As in, _completely._ And Grace couldn't have any of that. Not when she was so close to taste her success. And proven right before her husband.

"Grace, I appreciate what you did, but it's time to accept reality. My ship sealed a long time ago, and apparently I'm doomed to stay single for the rest of my life. But it's not a problem if I'm not in a relationship. I have many things to live for." Lisbon was smiling at Grace, but the redhead wasn't an idiot. Even an idiot – a blind one- would have seen it. Teresa wasn't happy, despite whatever she was trying to sell. It was time to rectify it- subtly- and set back in motion her plan. Just a little improved. But her new idea was going to work… and she was sure it would.

She was going to be a bridesmaid-maybe even the maid of honor- at Jane and Lisbon's wedding. And who knew. Maybe they could even ask her and Wayne to be the Godparents of their children (if Jane decided that Lisbon could rise them in the Church). In few years, they were going to have tea, all of them, together, and Teresa would tell their friends how the redhead had been their cupid, making their lives just picture perfect…

Or, well, maybe not. She was exaggerating a tiny bit, she knew it. But there was room for dreaming, right? And besides, this was "plan two." Plan One was to get the two of them together. But first, she needed to have Lisbon un-swearing off dating.

"I may have a proposition…" Grace made her best acting impression. She wasn't as good as Jane at selling her acts, but she had improved over the years at his side. She had to look honest, and maybe even a bit sorry for what had happened to poor Teresa.

"I don't know, Grace…" Teresa answered, making a slightly worried, and at the same time, disgusted, expression. "I think I hit rock bottom yesterday with that Maurice guy. If he was the best you could find, I think there is no chance for me."

It had been a terrible date, and Teresa didn't have any intention of remembering every detail, nor telling them out loud. Grace was sorry enough. She didn't need to know that the French guy had the worst fake French accent she had ever heard in her whole life, nor that he was a creep with maniac tendencies. The guy had been obsessed with her socks the whole evening, he had kept asking her to show them and to do indecent things with them. While they were at the restaurant. She had been tempted to arrest him, for she was sure he had gotten exited – in public!- just asking her to perform such acts.

"I have a plan…" She said, but then she corrected herself. She didn't want for Teresa to discover the truth. Not yet, at least. Or maybe, never, ever. She was a vengeful person, when she wanted to. "I have an idea. Next time, I will be careful. I will get to know the guy myself, I will, quiz him, or something, to see he isn't a pervert or a fake. Then, you and the guy I will choose for you will start exchanging… well, what you want. Texts. Calls. Emails. Whatever you feel comfortable with. And only when you'll feel ready, and you'll think he could be at least a decent friend, you'll meet him."

Grace put her right hand on her boss' left, and looked at Teresa with puppy dog eyes. People barely resisted pregnant ladies, but when she was the pregnant lady in question, there was just no room to escape. Whatever she liked it or not, Teresa was going to accept. It was just how she was.

"Promise me no perverts, please." She had had her good share of those. People interested in her because she was a cop and got horny on her handcuffs and her gun. People who liked their women on the short side. Men obsessed with the fairytale-like princess/elf/whatever they wanted her to be and dress like.

"You have my word that this time it will work." Grace smiled, but up her sleeve she was giggling. She was going to get her boss and Jane together, and they weren't going to see this coming. They were going to have their happily ever after, just like she had always hoped for them. Yes, her new improved plan was going to work. She had all the means to set it all in motion. Of course, there was still one little tiny detail she still had to take in consideration.

Because she didn't know how she could set Jane up with an internet dating profile-making it look like it was his idea- and set him up with Lisbon with a blind-date sort of thing, like in the Meg Ryan movie with Tom Hanks. But it didn't matter, because she was going to find a way. She was going to set them up together. In time, she would be proven right, and they were going to thank her.

Really- she just had to set Jane up to on-line dating first. And how hard could it be?

People assumed that Patrick Jane didn't have a soft spot, but they were wrong: he did, and her name was Grace Van Pelt-Rigsby. It wasn't like he was in love with her-the mere thought was, with all due respect for Grace, almost ridiculous- but he _liked _her. Grace was like a little sister, still innocent and naïve in his eyes. What Jane didn't understand (or maybe, what he didn't _want_ to understand) was that it wasn't like that any longer.

Yes, she still believed in a higher power and, even if she had accepted that Jane wasn't such a thing, she still thought that psychics could exist. She didn't talk about it, of course- there was just enough Jane-talk she could handle in her life- but despite these hidden beliefs, she wasn't the girl she had been a long time before, back when she had joined the team. Did she claim the opposite, especially when Jane was involved? Yes, often. But after all, how could she pass the chance of having Jane doing whatever she wanted and needed?

Also, as she was Jane's soft spot, she had him around, a lot. Wayne sometimes was a bit irritated as the mentalist often showed up uninvited when it was time to eat, but at least he often volunteered to babysit (for free) Ben too, allowing them to have time for themselves and act for a few, precious hours as grown-ups without a care in the world. All he asked in exchange was to savor Wayne's cooking skills at least once the following day, and what better occasion to trap him into on-line dating that a dinner invitation?

"Whatever you are thinking, you are hurting my brain, Grace dear." Jane told her that evening. They were sitting on the couch, drinking a cup of tea, and looking at Ben playing on his own on the carpet.

"Oh, really? And, enlighten me: what I am thinking so loudly about?" She smiled, almost laughed, and Jane's heart broke a tiny bit. Grace had been without that smile for far too long, and he felt in part responsible. Maybe he hadn't had a part in her break-up with Rigsby, but she had suffered terribly when she had discovered that the man she was planning of spending her life with, Craig O'Laughlin, was one of Red John's minions. It was stupid and irrational, and even Lisbon had told him so, but he kept telling himself that, had he not talked on television that night, had she not joined _his _team, she would have never met O'Laughlin, she would have never had to kill her own fiancée and go through everything she had afterward.

"Well, I think," he said, tapping his right index finger against his lip, faking concentration and a seriousness he was far from feeling "that it has to do with me, and that I will not like it."

Grace kept in silence, and then she looked at him, a bit guilty, biting her own lips. "It's just that, I was wondering if now you weren't thinking about…." Her eyes moved to his left hand, and the empty ring-finger he now showed after Red John's departure. "…You know, about dating again."

Jane shook his head, chuckling, smiling with his whole body. His eyes were almost always radiant, nowadays. He was happy, everybody knew it, and Grace did too, but she could feel that he was holding back something. She guessed- actually, hoped- it was his love for Lisbon, and that still now, after so many years, Jane felt guilty, and that he didn't think he deserved to live and to love.

"When I will be ready, you'll be the first one to know it." He smiled, his hands behind his head, his eyes now concentrated on the kid. Wayne had joined his son, and was busy trying to save the last pair of glasses Ben had decided he had to break in order to see how they actually worked- the child was going to be a scientist, Jane was sure of it.

Grace grunted, a very un-lady-like sound that yet fitted her. Yes, she was innocent and delicate, but like Lisbon, she could be a dragoness when needed. "Please. How do you think you'll find, I am not saying your next wife, but at least a _friend_, if you don't put yourself out on the market?"

Jane rolled his eyes. "Geez, thanks. I feel like a piece of meat now."

Grace crossed her arms. Her eyes were focused on the kid and his father, and yet her mind was all into the conversation with her team's consultant. She had to win the argument if she wanted to make it look like it had been, at least in part, his idea. "Say what you like, Jane, but you know I'm right."

Jane kept in silence for a bit, then added "I meet a lot of people through the job."

Grace grunted again in that un-lady-like manner of hers, and then chuckled. "Ok, over the 90% of the people we meet through the job ends up resenting you and/or hurting you. Second, the 70% of the women you meet through the job ends up being a murderers." Jane remained in silence, and like on auto-pilot, he touched his still sore nose. Just two days before, a person of interest in a case had almost broken it. "Let's be honest here, Jane: you can't do it the traditional way."

And that was when Jane understood what she was planning. He didn't know how Grace could have even just considered such an option. He had enough problems dating- let alone dating people he had never talked to or met in real life. Besides, the name Erika Flynn was still stuck in his head.

"No. No, no and no. Forget it, Grace." He begged her, looking like a scared little animal. "You are not going to sign me up at one of those dating agencies, whatever they are on the internet or next door."

"But…" She begged, sniffing and pouting. She was a pregnant lady, she knew that no one could actually resist her when she did so. Not even Jane himself.

"No." He said again, this time lower, but closer to her. He was almost whispering in her ear. "Grace, I am forty-five years old. _Forty. Five_." He repeated, spelling it. "I am far too old for this kind of things. I will look like a pervert or a weird, crazy guy." Grace looked at him quizzically, lifting her eyebrows. It wasn't, after all, far from the truth.

"With all due respect, Jane, but this is the twenty-first century. Internet dating is how people over forty meets their soul-mates." She gesticulated a bit with her hands, like it could actually help her proving her point more. "I mean, have you ever seen _Must love dogs_?"

"What's that, a social media site for people with animal fetishes?" He asked. And what scared Grace was the fact that he was serious. Oh, Lord, she thought rolling her eyes at him. He was really a lost cause. It was no wonder Teresa didn't think he could actually be in love with her. The man could be oblivious.

"Ehy, I know it, it's the movie with John Cusack, and… what are their names? Diane Lane and Dermot McKinley?"

"It's _Mulroney." _Grace pointed out, almost spitting the words, like by saying the name of the actor in the wrong way her husband had just insulted her. Wayne gulped down a mouthful of saliva and tuned back to Ben. With Grace, especially now that hormones were involved, it was better safe than sorry. Jane smiled at the scene. He really liked them, and being in their company. Maybe it was because their marriage was a bit strange.

Actually, strange wasn't really the right word to describe it. It was just different from what he had lived through. Grace and Wayne were the opposite of what he and Angela had been; she was resolute and he was a bit submissive in order to maintain the peace, but mostly they were just… he could say easy, in lack of a better word. Even at home, back then Jane had been the man he was on stage, he never abandoned the part. He wasn't just a showman- he had_ become_ that man.

"Jane? You all right?" Grace asked when she noticed his far-way look and his glossy eyes. Jane turned to look at her, and noticed how worried she was. Grace was always like that, and the poor soul had gone through enough already because of him- and adding stress during the pregnancy was never a good thing. Of course, he wasn't going to promise her to get married in a heartbeat, but maybe she was right. Maybe he could make some new friends along the way. Meet interesting people. And who knew. Maybe, eventually…

He chuckled, and nodded. "Ok, so. How is it going to be?" And Grace smiled in return- shrieking and throwing her arms around his neck, like he had just given her the best news ever.

And, unknowingly to him, he kind of just did.


	3. Chapter 2

Thanks for the favs and review, and sorry if I haven't answered yet to any of you, but life's been... a lot. I'll make sure to answer asap!

* * *

Grace Van Pelt-Rigsby was a woman on a mission- but she wasn't to be hurried. Her plan was perfect; she didn't even have to think about what she was supposed to do twice. She just needed time to avoid being discovered.

Timing was everything.

First thing first, she set up two non-descriptive e-mail accounts for the site; then, she wrote a profile for Jane, and, following the example of few men on perfectpartnerfinderdotcom, she didn't put a picture on- and avoided talking about his work in police investigations. She did the same for Lisbon, and, at the bottom of each profile, she wrote a similar explanation, about how they wanted to find a friend first and being accepted for their hearts instead of their look. She kept showing Lisbon the profiles of the guys she found for her friend, even if the number had drastically decreased, and she did the same to Jane.

Couple of weeks after she had put on Jane's profile, while she was waiting for Lisbon to leave for their weekly lunch, she went to the mentalist claiming she had found the perfect match for him.

"I don't know, Grace. None of the women you had showed me had… moved me." He tried to explain, gesticulating a little. Grace looked at him with a lifted eyebrow. She didn't know how the guy could believe he didn't have a tell, because that expression? He did it when he was unsure about something, or he didn't know how to explain himself. Which was rare, but ehy, it still happened every now and then- _especially _when Lisbon was concerned.

"I think," she told him, showing him the printed page of the profile she had done for Teresa. "That you'll agree with me that this time it will be different." She actually chuckled, and Jane was tempted to run away. He felt like a grinning Grace was never a good sign. She had learnt far too much from him during her years at the CBI.

Jane took, carefully, the sheet of paper between two fingers, and he examined it with great attention; the information was enough, and what hit him was just how "normal" this woman was. This "May Flower 39" wasn't a woman looking for husband number six, easy sex or whatever. She simply was a grown-up woman, almost in her forties, that, because of the long hours of her job, struggled to find someone to share her life with. It was a strange thing to say, but, even if he didn't have the minimal idea of how she could look like, he thought she was incredibly attractive just for her "soul" alone.

"Uhm, nice." Grace said, crossing her arms and looking at him, with a victorious gleam in her eyes. "You know Jane, you can say it. I'm pretty sure that the world will not end just because you'll admit that I was right."

"Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, Grace dear…." Jane sing-sang, his eyes fixed on the words written in black ink right before his eyes. He didn't care about how this woman could look like. He wanted to know her. Even just being friends could be enough. He just felt like he could do with her in his life- especially now that Lisbon was slowly drifting away from him.

"She just seems to need a friend. Someone to talk to, you know." Grace shrugged, but Jane wasn't even listening to her. He kept reading, and reading, and reading, like the words could change, or like he could cold-read May Flower 39 just looking at the page. Grace shivered for a sec, but then she quickly came back to her senses. There was no way that he could understand she had been the one to write it and that the main character of his new, imaginative romance was Lisbon.

"Ok, you know what? I think I'll leave you to…. This." She turned on her heels, and went to the elevator, where Teresa was waiting for her.

"Is it all right between you and Jane?" Lisbon asked, a bit worried. Teresa was really a saint. She always worried-too much. It was right about time someone took care of her.

"Yeah." Grace chuckled, laughing behind her teeth, ready to lie as never before. "Last week he came to dinner and he made a comment I didn't appreciated too much, so I kind of decided to get a little bit of revenge." Lisbon looked at her with appreciation. She always liked when people tried to pull one on Jane. The man was too egoistical, egomaniac and vain. "I showed him an article about a mentalist that announced being psychic just to make him mad."

Lisbon chuckled. It wasn't the worst thing that she had seen, but when people tried to convince Jane that he had powers, he always got mad in a funny way. Sometimes he was even a bit ridiculous.

"So… speaking of serious business…" Grace carefully took from her purse another piece of paper, folded in four, and she gave it to Lisbon. "I think you'll come to like Alexanderson 44." Teresa took the piece of paper, and read it with appreciation. The guy-for once- sounded all right. Or at least, normal-not that any of the guys Grace had introduced her to had seemed so off at first glance. Besides, he was using as a screen name his surname, so he was quite… plain. Who knew. Maybe she could like him, maybe even fall for him at some degree.

"I'll think about it" Teresa said, trying, and failing , at sounding casual. Grace smirked, and Lisbon wondered if the redhead knew she was already thinking about what she was supposed to e-mail to a guy she had never met before and she would like to befriend; behind Grace's back, she took her Blackberry, and wrote a message (the first thing that came to mind, and half a minute later, she was already regretting each and every word she had sent) for Alexanderson- and less than a minute later, as she was getting more and more anxious by the minute, he answered her, announcing that yes, he didn't mind getting to know her a little better.

Smiling, she wondered if she had just found a new friend- or maybe, something more. Who knew. Maybe, like many girls and women, Teresa Lisbon would start checking wedding dresses out, imagining how her happiest day could be. But anyway, it wasn't like she was already trying out his surname with her name. Definitely not. Even if Teresa Alexanderson sounded just marvelously, according to her.

* * *

So, May Flower and Alexanderson started writing to each other.

They kept it casual; they didn't talk (too much) about their lives in particular, about their jobs, or even their real names, nor the history behind their screen-names. Teresa thought it was his surname; Jane believed she was some kind of historical expert, or that maybe she was just fixated with the colonies or the Empire. He didn't care too much, though. She was all right enough to spend some quality time in the evening writing to.

They knew just a couple of things about each other, that both of them had had a friend choosing a suitor for them, and that they lived both in Sacramento. Jane- Alexanderson, actually- had tried to get more information out of her, but at the end, facing the reality of a huge and strong wall of insecurities, he had decided to let it go. For now.

After starting to get to know each other, they were both a bit better, and yet, they weren't, and Grace was starting to think that her plan could actually end up in disaster. Teresa, for the first time in months, was slowly coming back to be her old self. She wasn't the shadow of herself any longer, and she had even stopped thinking about the Damocles' sword hanging over her head- what she presumed was Jane's departure. She was calm and collected, sure of herself. Sometimes she was grumpy, and then, she got an e-mail and she became another whole person. Sometimes she already arrived at work extremely happy- and in those occasions, she was also a little late.

They guys (with the exception of Grace) thought she was seeing someone ("getting laid" as Wayne had gentlemanly put it), and Jane, a bit sorry and miserable, had to agree. Yes, Lisbon was having regularly good sex; yes, she was seeing someone regularly; yes, she was in a relationship, and no, it wasn't him her mystery man. But it wasn't like he actually needed to say it out loud, as his behavior already showed it. He pretended to don't care. Then, when the team called him on his bluff, he told them he was happy for her, and that it was about time.

But, as soon as they weren't looking at him, he used to go the attic and wrote to May Flower about how "_There is this guy I work with that thinks I am jealous because my boss is in a relationship."_ It was actually the truth, but hey. Even if he had to tell someone, he had to find the right words. He was supposed to pursue May Flower, not scare her away because he was moonlighting after an impossible relationship. But May was just that good, and she just got him. She always knew what she was supposed to say and to do, and slowly, Jane became fascinated by the mysterious woman- a puzzle wrapped up in an enigma, as he said once- and with the passing of weeks, and months, their conversations just turned a little bit different. It wasn't like they weren't casual any longer- because they still were- but Jane realized that he was feeling with this woman the same familiarity he had once shared with Lisbon, and, before that, with Angela. A bit like they were an old married couple that found comfort in talking about the weather or things like that….

_To: May Flower 39_

_From: Alexanderson 44_

_Subject: Autumn_

_I don't know. Yeah, I love it here, but still, I prefer the Autumn in New York City. I know, I know, it's a cliché, and I already said that I hate those. But I lived there for a while when I was a teenager, and I remember that every year, when September arrived and I saw the first leaves turning orange, I felt compelled to buy –never tell anyone this- school supplies. This year I feel the same, strangely. You know what? I would send you a bouquet of newly-sharpened crayons and pencils if I knew your name and address. But, let's admit it-this not knowing has its charms_.

"You all right, Lisbon?" Jane asked as they were driving to a crime scene. They had been at it the whole morning: he would ask her if she wanted to drive, she would say no, and she would spend the whole drive grinning like a lovesick teenager while reading the emails form her boyfriend. It was starting to unnerve him a little bit. It wasn't like she _had _to broadcast the whole thing and show the guy around. They- _he_- had gotten the message. He also had a lady-friend (of sort, at least) but it wasn't like he spent his whole time talking about her or reading her messages. Ok, maybe he did, but he just spent his whole time reading and reading them again and again and again, and only when he was alone, not in front of the rest of the world.

He had class, _him_.

"Uhm? I'm sorry, did you say something, Jane?" Jane grunted and felt the need to roll his eyes. She hadn't even listened to him. God, he didn't know if he could take it any longer. He was "a tiny bit in love" with her, and did she really had to slap him in the face and rub it just because she was dating?

He sighed. He was starting to feel like May Flower was right. She had told him that maybe he did have some feelings for his boss, and that maybe they run deeper than what he wanted to admit; apparently she had been right. The woman really knew him. Yes, she was his perfect match, the hell with Lisbon and her boyfriend. He would show her what perfect love felt and looked like. Or, who knew, maybe not. After all, what did he really knew about May, besides the fact that she was from Sacramento as well?

They arrived at the crime scene, they did their thing (aka he sniffed the body and made same allegations about the murderer and the victim's illicit activities, an affair the most innocent crime he was guilty of) and then, after having hidden behind Lisbon's metaphorical gown for a while (the killer didn't like being arrested, apparently) he went back to lean against the hood of his Citroen, and took from his jacket pocket his brand new phone – a Blackberry, similar to Lisbon's, but fancier, newer and more technologically advanced- and he smiled when he noticed that, finally, May had answered to his last mail. It had taken her long enough- something like five hours. But after all, he had gotten the idea that she worked odd hours.

_To: Alexanderson 44 _

_From: May Flower 39_

_Subject: re_

_I want to tell you a secret: I like to start my e-mails to you as you we are already in the middle of a conversation; I pretend that we are the oldest and dearest friends, as opposed to what we actually are, people who don't know each other's names and met in a dating site where both claimed we'd never been before._

As he read the line, Jane kept smiling, and couldn't help chuckling. Actually, he had understood this about her, and he had agreed with May on every word. He sometimes did the same with her. And it was this sense of familiarity that was convincing him that they should meet and that there was a good chance they would work out on a romantic level.

_Every morning, when I go to check my computer or my phone before going into work, I am thrilled. What will he say today, I wonder. I turn on my computer, I wait impatiently, and when I got on-line my breath catches in my chest until I see three little words: you've got mail. I hear nothing, not even a sound form the streets of Sacramento, just the beat of my heart. _

_I've got mail. From you._

Jane felt his heart aching for the woman. He felt the same for her- and, he hated to admit it, to a certain degree he felt the same towards Lisbon too. Was it love? Could he actually be in love with two- three if he wanted to count his late wife- women at the same time? He wasn't certain. Maybe he had enough love for all of them. Maybe it was a different kind of love for each one of them. Maybe he was just confused, now that he didn't have to concentrate full-time on Red John any longer.

_That _was another reason he wanted to meet May. He felt like seeing her could give him the answers he craved so much. But May had resisted until that moment. She kept repeating him the rules, about how they were supposed to talk about meaningless things such as books, music (which he didn't find harmless, not a tiny bit. After all, what was more intimate that a person's interests?) and their city. They weren't supposed to talk about anything too personal, that they (she) didn't want to know their names, their jobs or where exactly they lived.

He was getting kind of sick of this, though. After all, didn't they meet on a dating site? People who dated used to do that in the flesh. How could they knew if they were going to work, otherwise? But May was stubborn- as only Lisbon had ever been with him- and didn't want to hear a thing. So, they kept mailing to each other, saying the most ridiculous things, and yet sweet, and sometimes just… unnerving? Could he say that a conversation was unnerving when it just didn't have any meaning? But, as angry as he was every time she skipped around the bush… he was quite fond of this woman. Maybe he even loved her. And he kept doing this, because, after all, wasn't it better than nothing?

_From: Alexanderson 44_

_My father? Oh, please. He didn't set any example. I think he had been married twice by the time I was twelve. And none of them was my mother. And before you could ask me-he divorced all of them. I think he should be in wife number five by now… let's put it this way, I am from an American Family._

_From: May Flower 39_

_Fun fact: this morning, as I was doing my daily job, a butterfly decided that my hair was the nicest place she could rest on. I think last time it happened it was… when I was around ten? _

_From: Alexanderson 44_

_Every night, a truck pulls up to Marie's and pumps about a ton of flour into the ground silos? The air gets absolutely amazing, the smell of vanilla and your grandmother, and the way the dust of flour dances into the air…_

As she read the words, Lisbon smiled, and looked around herself, blushing a bit, biting her lips. Here she was as well- at _Marie's_- and wondered if it was fate, or an accident he was talking about the very place she was in. She kept scanning the room, trying to see if there was any man around that was writing on his phone or on a computer.

"Look, look, look…. Agent Lisbon seems rather guilty. Are you cheating on your boyfriend, my dear?" Jane asked, as he sat again at the table after he had gone looking for their missing orders. She just blushed furthermore, and looked everywhere but at him.

"Oh, hush you. You are insufferable."

_From: May Flower 39_

_I have read Sense and Sensibility… 300 times. No kidding, I just did the math. 12 times a year for the last 15 years. And every time I wonder if Eleanor and Edward will get together. AND it's not even my favorite book. Whenever I think about books, I think about my childhood readings. Sometimes, even if I don't have children, even if it's been so long since I've been a child myself… I just grab one of them, and I read, and read and read until I fall asleep. I remember my mother, and my happy place. I could have never left them behind. It's the only thing I took with me when I left, and turned my back on my old life. It's just that, I lead such a small life. Ok, maybe not really small, but… circumscribed? I'm not even sure such is the case- I do travel a lot, but… you get it, right? And yet, I wonder, do I have it because I want to, or because I haven't been brave enough? So much of what I see remembers me of something I read in a book or a movie I have seen, and shouldn't it be the other way around?_

Jane took a big breath when he received the message. He pondered carefully the meaning behind her words. Maybe she had just left her guard down a little, maybe it hadn't been intentional – she sounded a bit frustrated- but she had never told him so much about herself. Now he knew that she traveled a lot for her job, that she wasn't born in Sacramento and that she had lost her mother. Her father had probably fallen victim to depression, guilt, alcohol or drug after her death, and she had stayed until the day he had died. He sighed, and put the phone back in his jacket. May was right. He was a bit in love with Lisbon, and as she and this woman were so similar, it was probably why he was attracted to her too. Or at least, he thought so. Knowing without actually knowing had, indeed, its charms. And yet, it was very frustrating.

The icon blinked again after few instants, and without checking, Jane knew already it was her.

_I don't want an answer. I just needed to send this cosmic question out into the void. So… well, goodnight._

Jane reflected. She had written the words in the heat of the moment- his favorite kind of letters- and had regretted it as soon as she had re-read them after she had sent the e-mail. Yeah, May had really had to be pissed off. Maybe it was that subordinate of hers again. He chuckled a little, and his eyes went to Lisbon, again busy checking her e-mail account on her Blackberry- poor woman was obsessed with her job- with line of worries on her forehead. She was probably checking out if the last witnesses had issued a complaint against him. He had to get the two women to meet. They would get along just great, he just knew it. He smiled a little smile, and then, Lisbon's phone rang. It was the tone she reserved for the big boss in charge. And a call from the big boss in charge was never a good sign.

…And in fact, it wasn't. Two hours later, as soon as she drove in the CBI Parking lot, Teresa's phone rang yet again, and she was asked to get back to her office ASAP- and alone. She was tense and worried on their way upstairs, and Jane kept it silent, knowing all too well that even just one world would have been his ruin in such a situation. Like a lost puppy, he looked at her entering in her office- the blinds were closed, another bad sign – and he understood that things were bad when she left just a couple of minutes later. He had just had enough time to go to his couch that she stormed out of her room and threw her badge at him- he suspected she resisted firing her gun at him just because she didn't want to end up in jail.

"Ehy! Lisbon!" He asked, quite stunned, trying to regain his balance, as she kept hitting him with her badge, kicking at the same time his beloved couch. He opened his eyes and really looked at her. Lisbon wasn't just mad, she was desperate. She was even crying. And a crying Lisbon was never, ever a good sign.

"One month unpaid suspension, Jane, and I'll be reinserted on a pending review. Do you know what it means? Uh? It means that you, Golden Boy, get to keep your job, and me…." She closed her eyes, and she pinched the bridge of her nose, taking a big breath. "Thanks, Jane. It's good to know that you still can pull a stunt caring about the results and not the people you leave behind." And saying so, with such a glacial and calm tone that it almost killed him, she turned on her heels, and left, hands in her pockets, resigned.

He felt bad, for some strange reason- well, worse than usual, at least. He had always pulled stunts like the last one, and he had always avoided informing Lisbon. And Lisbon had always paid for his mistakes. He didn't like it, of course, but it had never been like that. He wondered if it was because Red John's death had opened some kind of Pandora's box. Now he wasn't with the team any longer just because he "had" to, but because he wanted to. Because… because he cared.

Because he was a tiny bit in love with her, damn it.

He grunted, and opened the e-mail program on his phone. Lately, whenever he felt bad, there was only one thing that could help him out- and it was "talking" with May.

_To: May Flower 39_

_Do you ever feel like you've become the worst version of yourself? Someone provokes you, and instead of just smiling and moving on, you zing them. Hello, I'm Mr. nasty! But I'm sure you have no idea what I am talking about._

May didn't answer for over half a day, and Jane was starting to get anxious. Like a little kid, he couldn't stand still, and checked every minute his phone. It was stupid- and it made the guys question his sanity- because it wasn't the first time that it happened. After all, May had a life, she wasn't all the time on her computer- or whatever- checking if he had logged on- as far as he knew, she was an old lady with thousands cats and an army of grandchildren. But this time it was different. He needed… he didn't know what, if it was advice or just someone to talk to. Lisbon wasn't there, and she was mad with him, and he didn't know what to do.

And then, at the end of the day, he finally saw it, the little blinking icon… _you've got mail._

_To: Alexanderson 44_

_I know what you mean, and I am completely jealous- of you, and of a guy I know who behaves like that. What happens to me when I am provoked is that I get tongue-tied, my mind goes blank and then I spend all night tossing and turning trying to think of what I should have said…_

Jane grinned, and, sitting, he started to write his answer. He did it quickly- in the last few months, he had become quite the expert. He was even started to think he was developing "Blackberry thumbs"…

_To: May Flower 39_

_Wouldn't it be great if I could pass all my zingers to you and I would never behave badly all the time and we both- and our friends and our coworkers- would be happy the whole time? On the other hand, I must warn you that when you finally have the pleasure of saying the thing you mean to say at the moment you mean to say it, sometimes remorse- and troubles- follows. Just today, for example. I said what I wanted to say when I wanted to, but I got a friend in troubles because I've been too forward with a big head… and yeah, I feel a tiny bit guilty about the whole thing._

Jane waited for a while, not long enough to get an actual answer, but long enough to decide that she was right. Sometimes, you just have to do something when you want to do it. After all, she had sent earlier a mail about herself, without thinking about the consequences. Maybe it was time to follow his instinct again, the hell with his devilish plans. Maybe… maybe he could get it to work. Or simply clear his mind, because he was falling for May, and he was seriously starting to question his sanity, since he wasn't so sure any longer that loving more than one woman at the same time could be possible.

_To: May Flower 39_

_Do you think we should meet?_

She didn't answered. And right before her screen, Teresa wondered if Alexanderson knew that she had no idea what to do. She didn't know how to answer. Part of her wanted to meet this man, she wanted to see with her own eyes if he was as good in reality as he was in his mails. He sounded… he wasn't perfect, just perfect for her. Was it because sometimes he remembered her so much of Jane? She guessed this was part of his charm, _AND_ what scared her. Was she falling- if she hadn't fallen already- for him because she wanted someone like Jane at her side, and she feared Jane was going to leave sooner or later?

Oh, dear Lord. She didn't know what to do. And lately, whenever she didn't know what to do… there was only one thing she could think of- writing to Alexanderson.

_To: Alexanderson 44_

_I always miss a bit my mum, but right now… I really would like to still have her. I'd like to be able to ask her for advice._

_To: May Flower 39_

_I am glad you are on-line. I missed you the past couple of days. Just for the record, I can give you advice. I am great at advice._

_To: Alexanderson 44_

_I don't think you can help. It's about … everything. I am a tad confused right now. I am having troubles because of a friend, and my job and… and a lot of other things running through my mind._

_To: May Flower 39_

_I normally would ask you to talk to me in specifics, but I know that you would just point out that we already discussed such a point and agreed to keep our conversations as neutral as possible. Thus, as I can't give you a specific advice, I will tell you just this: Go to the mattresses._

_I think you'll be looking at the screen right now, wondering what the hell I just said- don't deny it, I know you are doing just that- so allow me to explain myself. It's from The Godfather. It means, go to war. And yes. I like the godfather. What's not to like? It's the sum of all wisdom. The answer to any question. And the answer to your question is, go to the mattresses. Why? Because you are at war. And you have to remember it. Recite it every time you feel like you are losing your nerves. I know you worry about being brave, so this is your chance to stand up for yourself. Fight. Fight to the death, and clear things with that friend of yours. _

Days passed, and May didn't answer. Jane felt like he had said something that either had had her felt insulted, or she was just too worried about that friend of hers. Maybe he wasn't just a friend. She had said few words about him, and Jane had gotten the idea she had a crush on the guy. He could almost envision him. He probably was an intern, much younger than her. Not that she was a man eater, but, he didn't know why, he just had that idea in his mind.

Meanwhile, Lisbon had –finally- returned. She was working under scrutiny, both from an advisor of some sort send by the big bad boss in charge, and both by La Roche's. The bald man wasn't worrying Jane too much, though; he had a liking, a sweet, brotherly affection for Teresa, after all. And the fact that he knew she was well aware of his darkest secret helped as well.

But… Lisbon wasn't Lisbon. She was sweet and controlled, too much. Instead of trying to man up, she was more remissive than ever. And it killed him how she behaved with him. She smiled at him sometimes, but with something he couldn't identify. Was it longing or regret? Did she wanted for things to change? She seemed unsure and tense. It was worse than when he had first arrived, worse than when he had returned from Vegas, claiming he didn't remember confessing his love. He was confused. He needed her, her help, her advice, but she avoided him. He needed May, but she wasn't answering to his messages any longer either.

Until, one day, she did… and she agreed to meet him in person. Finally, he was going to see the light, understand what was going on in his life.

Or maybe… not. Because Jane didn't know how much May was going to rock his world.


	4. Chapter 3

Thanks for the reviews... and everything else. I just wnated to point ouit, as I forgot to do it last chapter, that, for personal reasons, instead than using Pride and Prejudice as the book of choice I went with another Austen one, Sense and Sensibility. Why? Well, I'm simply crazy about it...

* * *

"I am going to meet him in an hour."

Grace lifted her eyes from the delicious ice-cream she was eating, and looked at the new arrival- Teresa- who hadn't even bothered to say hello before dropping the bomb on the redhead. Grave immediately shivered, and hoped that Lisbon didn't see it or thought it was because of the sweet. She was starting to doubt her own plan. Of course, it wasn't like it was too soon, but neither of them knew who the other was. It wasn't supposed to go like that. She had thought that either they would have ended up saying something in the line of "Hey, by the way, my name is Patrick Jane, and I work as a consultant for the California Bureau of Investigation" and "Really? Jane, are you kidding? It's me, Lisbon!" or that talking with each other would have… well, opened their eyes in some kind of way. But of course they couldn't be normal. Instead of falling in love with each other, they still have dubious feelings for each other and had ended up falling in love with two perfect strangers.

She was getting scared. God only knew what Jane would have done once found out the truth. And Lisbon… well, she could renounce getting back on the job once maternity leave was over.

Grace gulped down a mouthful of saliva as she looked at a giggling and teenage Lisbon sitting right before her, eating an ice cream with a dreamy expression. God, poor Teresa was lost. She had never seen the boss behaving like that. Not even when she was dating Mashburn. And the guy was a billionaire who was ready to acknowledge her every desire. "Are you sure you want to do it? Maybe you should… I don't know. Dial a cab to just sat there and wait for you." Grace hoped Lisbon would fall for this. If she saw Jane, she would imagine that he had extorted her the location and, in order to avoid any embarrassment, she would just leave.

"Oh, don't worry. We are going to meet at Marie's. Apparently we both like it. God, do you know how many times I've looked around and wondered if one of the guys sitting there was him? And now I'm going to meet him!"

"Yes, but, Lisbon… are you sure?" Grace asked, suddenly concerned. Lisbon was too happy, too radiant. She liked this guy way too much for her own good. She had fallen for him- or at least, she was falling for him- and Grace wondered what place Jane still had in her heart. Was she trying to make Alexanderson into a rebound? Didn't she love Jane any longer? And if she didn't… how could she react, once discovered they were the same person?

Teresa nodded. "He is going to wear a red carnation in the lapel of his jacket." She paused, and then went a little closer to her friend, a bit too conspiratorial about the whole thing. "He wears three pieces suites." And giggled.

Grace looked at Lisbon quizzically, lifting her eyebrows. Her (former) boss didn't understand that it was with Jane she was in love with, no matter what. Even if she had fallen for Alexanderson, it was only because he was a copy of Jane in her eyes.

"And… you'll have a rose into a copy of your favorite book, I guess." Grace said, eyeing the _Sense and Sensibility _copy Lisbon had in her lap. A White rose was well visible between the pages. "Let me guess, he thinks that red roses are too banal." She would have gone for "sophomoric", but she guessed Lisbon would have gotten the hint a bit too hard if she had used Jane's favorite word.

"Well, yes." She paused, wondering how she could tell. She hoped she hadn't read her letters, as Grace had been the one to create the matching e-mail account. Because if she did, she would be embarrassed. There were things she had said to Alexanderson that she didn't want her "people" to discover. "Anyway, I just wanted to tell you. And thank you, all right? Whish me good luck. Or… you know what? Don't. After all, it's not like it's a date. But if it was…"

Lisbon didn't even allow Grace to reply. The redhead sighed, and looked at her boss' retreating form and at her own ice-cream, only half eaten. Well, she guessed she would ask Lisbon to pay for her the next time they went at that bar, because there was no way she was going to stay there, knowing that Jane and Lisbon were going on a blind date of sort at _Marie's_. Damage control was in order, and apparently, it was on her.

* * *

When Jane walked out of the attic that day, Cho and Rigsby immediately noticed something different about him: the man was wearing a new suit, and was extremely uncomfortable- an adjective that they had never associated before with Jane, who was charisma walking in old three pieces suits.

"Nice attire, man." Rigsby chuckled, whistling a little like a wolf, making fun of his long-time friend. After all, it wasn't like Jane had never done it before with them. "You got a date?"

"Actually… yes." He admitted, keeping taking off imaginary threads from his jacket. "I am seeing a girl I met on the internet." He said at low voice, looking around so none other could hear him. Strange but true, he was still a little embarrassed about the whole thing. After all, he was believed to be a womanizer, and here he was, getting dates on the internet.

Rigsby barely resisted spitting his coffee, but then, once gulped down the beverage, he chuckled at the mentalist. "Oh, yeah, let me guess, she is one of those girls who put a flower in a book to be recognized."

Jane didn't answer, so Cho took the lead. "Is it Anna Karenina or a Jane Austen?" But his question didn't look like… like he was really interested. Sometimes Cho made Jane shiver, he could look like one of those crazy scientists who would do anything to get the job done, like they were all subjects of a theory or an experiment. Well, he guessed it came with the military interrogator training.

"Austen. _Sense and Sensibility,_ actually." He admitted, hands in his pants pockets, rolling on his heels.

"Man, I can't believe you did this, I mean…" Rigsby went a little closer, and lowered his voice. Before talking, he looked around to make sure his lovely half wasn't anywhere. With Grace, one could never be too sure. "Did you see her? Cause if you didn't… you know she can be a real dog, right? I mean, internet dating is for losers and freaks… " Rigsby was going to laugh about his own statement, but then he met Cho's stare: his cool gaze remembered him that he too had signed for internet dating in the past. Besides, It was _Jane _they were talking about, and as far as they knew, he wasn't nor loser or a dog. And even if he was, Cho was pretty sure he would have hated being called such things. Especially by _them. _

"Listen." Jane said, lifting his hands like in surrender. "I know all of this, all right? This is why I am going to say hello, stay ten minutes, drink a cup of tea, and then I am out of there. I just need to understand a couple of things, and I think that if I don't meet her in person, I will never get it." As he said those words, Jane started to play with his ring-finger in his left hand. He knew there was no point in doing so as he had taken off his late wife's token of love when Red John fell, but it still felt strange. He wasn't used to not being married, to not wearing a ring. He wanted that invisible weight back, and part of him wondered if May could be the one to give this to him. Yes, Teresa had been the one he had often envisioned a life with, but now it was different. She was happy and in a relationship, and he didn't feel like imposing himself on her.

"Ehy, man, listen, I am done here for today. Do you want me to walk you there?" Jane simply nodded, with a lost puppy expression, and Rigsby grunted in annoyance- that was a trick that could work on the ladies, but not on him. Besides, he had offered first. It wasn't like he was going to back out of that. "Ok, let's go."

As they were in the elevator, Jane even stared at the stop button. Part of him even wished for the elevator to break. Was it really right? He wasn't sure any longer. He had been the one asking her to meet, and yet now he was scared- like he had never been before. "What if she has a really high, squeaky voice like those mice in Cinderella?"

"Gus or the other one?"

Jane looked at Rigsby for a fraction of second, then turned his attention back to the control panel and huffed. He didn't even want to know why a grown up manlike the cop – with a boy - knew the name of the mice in Cinderella. "I am starting to ask myself why am I compelled to meet her? I'm just ruining a good thing." He paused, hands once again in his pockets. He was starting to sweat copiously for the distress he felt. "I am not going to stay long anyway. I already said that, didn't I? I'm a total wreck. And I'm_ never_ a total wreck."

Rigsby didn't even bother to nod. It wasn't like he knew what to say. He had never seen his friend in such a state before-unless it had to do with the boss. But it wasn't like this woman could be on the same level as Lisbon, right? Because if they were, it mean that Jane was in love with Lisbon _and_ with this woman as well, and it was impossible to love two women at the same time, right? Besides, Jane would have pursued Lisbon if he had been in love with her, and he hadn't. He shook his head, grunting. He had to stop listening to Grace: all that soap-opera was making his heart hurt.

"This woman is the most adorable creature I have ever come in contact with. I think that she could be the one, you know? I think I don't care how she looks like, even if she turns out to be as good-looking as a mailbox. Part of me thinks that I have to turn my life upside down and, you know, just marry her." Jane finally said as they reached their destination, shrugging, and then, once arrived at Marie's, he looked at the window, but as soon as he took the first step, he stopped, and turned to face Rigsby once more. "Go to the window and check her out."

"Man, you are a wreck." Wayne shook his head, and then took the few steps that separated him from the window, and he looked inside, searching for a table that held a book with a flower. "Ok…let me see… no, no, she is beautiful but she doesn't have a book… no, no… ehy! I got a book with a flower in it! A white rose, I think?"

"Yes! That's her! What does she look like?" Jane asked, getting at Rigsby's side and watching inside too.

"Hang on, there is a waiter right before her, so I can't see her face. He is serving her a cup of something, and she is putting two spoonful of sugar in it." Jane glared at him, like to ask why he felt it was relevant the quantity of sugar the mystery lady was putting in her beverage- but what could he expect from Rigsby, a man who based a good part of his life on food? "Ehy, maybe she has hypoglycemia. It could be bad for her." Rigsby tried to explain himself as soon as he met Jane's gaze. He absolutely hated, and felt slightly humiliated, when people judged him because of his dedication to food.

"Just tell me if you can see her, will you?" Jane crossed his arms, and when they eyes met, Rigsby knew that it was an order. And if there was one thing he had learnt in the last decade or so, it was that he wasn't supposed to mess with Jane when he ordered people around. He was vengeful, after all.

"Ok, the waiter is moving and…" Rigsby looked once, twice, then he turned to face Jane, then he looked again at the window, gulping down a mouthful of saliva. It couldn't be. It was impossible. And yet… all the pieces were suddenly in the right place. "Well… she is… pretty." He said, blushing with a bit of embarrassment.

Jane grinned, chuckling. "Oh, well, not that I cared, but let me tell you, I always knew she would be. She _had_ to be."

"She looks…" Rigsby paused, then turned towards Jane. He was kind of torn because of this new revelation. Until a second before, he had wanted to tell Jane to just turn on his heels and run, but now things had drastically changed, and escaping wasn't an option any longer. "I hope you find the boss attractive, Jane."

Jane lifted his eyebrows. "Lisbon? Why?" He suddenly shivered. He was starting to feel guilty, like he was in a relationship with Lisbon and he was going to cheat on her. Was that what Rigsby was trying to tell him? Or maybe not. It probably was all in his head. He was just being paranoid, like his usual. And Rigsby was being just Rigsby, and who knew what he really meant with that statement.

"Because if you don't like the boss, I can tell you right now you are _not_ going to like this girl." Rigsby paused, again looking at Jane and then at the boss and then Jane again. "Because, Jane, I hate to tell you this, but… _she is_ the boss."

Jane elbowed him in the ribs to make him move- quite painfully, but he didn't care- and he stared inside. Sat at a table for two, there was Teresa, drinking coffee and with _Sense and Sensibility_ and a rose between its page on the table. He could say from such a distance that she was starting to get uncomfortable, she was even checking her watch again and again. Foolish woman, he thought grinning, what did he tell her about the kettle?

"So, are you going to make her just wait here, after all those amazing things you said she wrote you?" Rigsby asked, suddenly serious. But Jane could see he wasn't being judgmental. He would accept his choice, and kept it secret. Jane took a step back, and started to walk on the concrete, hands in his pockets, head low. He kept taking big breaths, mentally talking himself in going inside and then in leaving her there with an excuse, and he also wondered about how he could make Grace pay for this little stunt.

He took the red carnation between his fingers, and then he hid it in his jacket pocket, and without adding a sole word… he marched inside _Marie's_, going to sit at Lisbon's like it was the most natural thing in the whole wide world. Like he belonged there. Teresa wasn't exactly looking in that instant, focused on the menu and her watch, but when she finally decided to lift her eyes, she was met by his stunning, mischievous smile.

"Hello, Lisbon. What a coincidence. Mind if I sit down?" She stared at him. Jane was just… Jane. Why was he asking, since he had already made himself at home? And then, like he owned the place and her life, without bothering to ask he went for her book. "Oh, nice. _Sense and Sensibility_. You know, I never truly pictured you as a Jane Austen fan…"

Teresa grabbed the book back, and then she put it back on the table, one hand on it in order to avoid having Jane taking it back again. After all, Alexanderson was going to arrive soon, she couldn't risk him not seeing the book, or worse, seeing her with another man- especially one who wasn't interested in pursuing a relationship with her and had accidentally forgotten his declaration of love.

"I always thought you were more the racy romance novels kind of woman-you know, Harlequin, that sort of stuff where the female lead would put a flower between the pages of a book to signal her presence to her lover- and maybe crime books when you are forced to take a leave from the job. _BUT_ I bet you read this book more than once a year, that you love Mr. Edward and that your heart beats wildly at the idea that he and whatever her name is are really, honestly and truly going to end up together. Like every time you read it, it could change. The finale still amazes you after all this time, doesn't it?"

"Jane…" She took a big breath. He could see worry lines on her forehead. Oh, he was such a bastard, but he was having such a fun! And yes, he wanted to feel the waters too. "Jane, I am waiting for a friend. Do you mind leaving?"

"I think I'll get up as soon as your friend comes. Is he late?"

She shivered, she didn't want to know how he was supposed to know she was meeting a man. Oh well, he was _the_ Patrick Jane, after all. He always knew everything, and what he didn't know… he deduced it.

"Edward's love interest is Elinor, and just for the record, I think that she and Marianne are two of the greatest characters ever written. Not that you would know."

Jane grunted. He didn't like this last affirmation. Ok, he never went to school as all the other children did, but he wasn't stupid. He had learnt on his own. Worked hard to get where he was today, and she shouldn't insult him for something that, basically, wasn't his fault- if there was someone to blame, it was his mother, who abandoned him, and daddy dearest, who only cared about the money his son could bring into the household.

"Just for the record," he said, quoting her like a parrot just to annoy Lisbon. "I've read it. And I think, Lisbon, that if you would try to really get to know me, you'd discover a lot of things you can't even fathom right now."

She snorted- it was so un-lady lake, but she didn't care. She was fed up with him and his idiocies. "Ah. I think I got to know you well enough in over ten years, Jane, and what _I_ know is that you are a self-centered egoistical jerk with control issues who doesn't care about the others. Whatever to get the job done, right? And the hell with the consequences. It doesn't matter if you get the others in trouble, doesn't matter who you leave behind, you must be proven the smartest in the room, always. While the man I am here to see… he is completely unlike you. He is kind and funny and has a great sense of humor and… and there is not a cruel or careless bone in his body. But I can't expect you to know anything about a person like that." Teresa took a big breath, and smiled a little of a cynic smile. She took a big breath again, suddenly realizing what she had actually said, and then looked away. She knew that she had just crossed a line, and that was it. "Jane…sorry, I didn't mean…"

He shook his head, looking at his hands on the tablecloth. "No need, Lisbon. You just told me what you thought. And you know what? This is my cue to leave. Good night. I'll see you tomorrow."

He left, and once outside, he dropped the carnation in a trashcan with such an anger he had never felt before. But he guessed it wasn't all her fault. He had taken her for granted, after all, believed that she was always going to forgive and forget. Now it was pay time. But… but he loved her. He loved her as Teresa and he loved her as May, and even if right now there was no chance to make them work out…

He would think of something. He needed to get Teresa back as a friend- so that she could, one day, be his- as a friend or a lover, it didn't matter. He just knew that: he needed her in his life.


	5. Chapter 4

Thanks for the reviews... and everything else. Your support id always amazing, and I'm glad I'm part of such a great fandom. So, either you are registered or not... thanks!

* * *

When Teresa got home, she felt like dying; grunting, she fell on her bed, still fully clothed, the book at her side. She was frustrated because of what Alexanderson had done to her, but mostly, she felt bad for the words she had said to Jane. He didn't deserved them,: she hadn't been fair to him. Yes, he used unusual methods, and no one stood after he passed, like an hurricane, but he solved cases. He helped people out. Got justice for the victims, and closure for the families.

But…

But he had been a bigger pain than usual lately- just in a different kind of way. Or maybe it was just because she didn't understand him any longer. He was hot and cold, and she could never say what could go through his mind at any given moment. He was a mystery, an enigma, something-someone - she still didn't know how to handle any longer; and that after more than ten years that they had been partnered together.

She looked at her computer, and decided to be proactive about this whole thing. She needed to know- or maybe just understand –why Alexanderson had stood her up, and she needed someone to talk to. Of course, she could have talked with Grace about it, but, as much as she cared about the red-head, it was _this man_ she needed right now. She had to risk it, even if he wasn't going to answer.

_To: Alexanderson_

_I am thinking about you. I just went to meet you, and you weren't there. I wish I knew why. I felt so foolish. And as I waited, someone else showed up, a man who has made my life so much difficult- I think I may have already mentioned him –and I was able, for the first time in my life, to say the exact thing I wanted to say. and of course, afterwards I felt horrible, just as you said I would. I was cruel, and I'm never cruel. And, I don't know if what I said mattered to him, but if it did… no matter what he did to me, there is no excuse for my behavior._

_It's just that, you are my dear friend, and I wanted to talk with you. I hope you had a good reason for not being there, but if you don't, and we never connect again, I just want to tell you how much it has meant to me to know you were out there. Goodbye._

As soon as the mail arrived, Jane saw the blinking light on the screen flashing right before his eyes. He stared at it, one hand under his chin in contemplation, he didn't even dare to open it. He was torn. Yes, he had a plan, but he didn't know if he was ready to fulfill it. Most of what he had in mind depended of what Teresa was going to tell him in her missive, and yet, knowing this simple fact, he was scared. Did she deserve Patrick Jane? Did she deserve Alexanderson?

He took off, and went in the kitchen, the computer still on and still blinking; he went through the refrigerator, the fridge, every shutter, but he didn't find anything that could hold his interest, not even tea. Sighing, he went back to his bedroom, and put on his pajama, but yet, he still could see in his peripheral vision the computer. He tried to battle the instinct and the desire to write her, to read the letter, because he was still too confused about their feelings. But at the end, he lost the battle, and he went to sit at the small table, he inserted his password once more, and resisting the urge to slap his own face and call himself an idiot, he read the whole thing. Again. And again. And again. So many times he actually lost count.

And then, he started typing his reply.

_I am in Vancouver right now_

He sighed, and deleted the whole thing. He could lie, but this was just too big. Teresa would have immediately understood it wasn't the truth. Struck by sudden inspiration, he started to type once more.

_I was struck in a meeting, which I couldn't get out of, and there was no phone. _

He erased once more the last part of the sentence, knowing that the devil and the lie were in the details. He wondered, though, if she wasn't going to suspect foul play too if he were to be too vague, so he decided to add a little something, just to make sure.

_The electricity went out in the building and we were trapped on the 18th floor. Amazingly enough, the telephone system blew too._

He sighed and literally hit his head against the wood, frustrated. It didn't go. Too many details, and besides, she didn't deserve a lie- she was getting enough of them as it was – so he lifted his head and backspaced the whole thing, erasing every single letter. It was time to change approach.

_Dear friend, I cannot tell you what happened to me last night, but I beg you from the bottom of my heart to forgive me for not being there. _

He shook his head, and deleted some more. Not the whole thing- the beginning was good, and promising.

_… to forgive me for what happened. I feel terrible that you found yourself in a situation that caused you additional pain. But I am absolutely sure that whatever you said last night was provoked, even deserved. And everyone says thing they regret when they are worried or stressed. You were expecting to see someone you trusted, and met the enemy instead. The fault is mine. Someday, I will explain everything, but now I am still here. So… Talk to me. Write to me._

With a little smile, Jane turned off his computer. Now it was time to sleep. And starting tomorrow, he would have started to repay whatever damage he had done to Teresa's affection for him. He knew there was room for improvement, now. He just had to be patient, and have a good timing.

* * *

A couple of days later, Grace decided that she needed to talk with Lisbon to understand a couple of things. After the "non-date", Rigsby had come home, and told her, laughing, what had happened. All because he didn't know she had been the one to set them up. At first, she had wanted to follow them at Marie's, but then she had given up, fearing being discovered, but now, she needed to know how much Lisbon knew of this "indiscretion". Teresa was her good friend, she didn't want to lose her, even if she had acted in her interest.

While she was walking to her (former) boss' office, her eyes fell on Jane's couch. He was faking sleep as often, and he grinned a bit when he understood she was there -she didn't even want to know how he knew that it was her and not someone else. Grace trembled, because that expression screamed volumes. He knew. Of course he knew, he wasn't an idiot, after all. Now all she had to see was how much he was going to make her pay. But right now, everything seemed calm. If nothing, Jane was a man who believed that vengeance was served best cold, when your opponent wasn't expecting it any longer. Just because they were friends and part of a surrogate family of sort it didn't mean he was going to make an exception. Far from it.

She composed herself, and walked directly on the door, entering only after being given permission- she wasn't Jane- and then smiled at Teresa. She didn't go to seat before Lisbon's desk, but immediately on the couch, once received a warm smile from her friend. She also decided to avoid beating around the bush. There was no reason to, after all. She knew that Alexanderson had stood Teresa up. Now all she wanted to see was what Teresa had in mind for "lover boy".

"By the way, he wrote me back." Teresa said, offering Grace a cup of tea, few minutes later. The redhead almost chocked.

"And… uhm… did he say anything about meeting again?" she was blushing, her eyes going every now and then to Jane, still busy "napping" on his couch in the bullpen. She hated him. Why did he have to make everything so damn difficult?

"Not really, but it doesn't matter. We'll just be like George Bernard Shaw and Mrs. Patrick Campbell, and write letters to each other our whole lives."

Grace laughed a little, giggling like a silly teenager. "And you'll try to sell them when he'll tell you his secret identity, and you'll discover that he is, in truth, a billionaire or some rich guy?" She put down her cup, and, hands in her lap, she looked at Teresa, quite seriously. "Maybe you got lucky and you don't know it yet. Maybe he is a convicted felon."

But Teresa just shook her head.

"No. He wasn't there for a good reason. I know it. I don't care about it- but I know that one day he will tell me- face to face." Grace sighed. The dreamy- and girly- expression on Teresa's face was full of promises, but yet, everything could still go wrong. After all, it was all up to Patrick Jane now.

* * *

So, as Jane and Lisbon were, very slowly, rekindling their friendship, May Flower and Alexanderson kept writing to each other. The mentalist did his best to keep the letters vague, sure that, now that he knew of Lisbon's secret identity of sort, she would be soon finding out the truth about him too. It didn't make any sense, of course, but still, he feared that she would discover this little secret and break up with both versions of her secret admirer.

And yet, it wasn't enough- it was _never _enough, not when every step he took, he took also two steps back. Because for every sweet word, every nice action, he also did something awful, relatively speaking, of course, and she got mad at him because her boss got mad with her because of him. It was an endless circle he didn't know how to break. He wasn't even sure he wanted to actually break it. Yes, he hated that Teresa was permanently mad with him, but she was supposed to know that he worked in a certain way, and that his way of doing things usually generated troubles for law enforcements. Yes, he was a closer, but the cases he closed had never been bullet (and sue) free.

But now, he feared he had screwed up a bit too much. He trembled, sweated, fearing that his whole plan was falling right before his eyes. Because Lisbon, once again, wasn't at the office. She hadn't been there in a couple of days, and she wasn't even answering to Alexanderson's emails. She wasn't reaching out to complain, either. He was getting worried. Maybe she was mad. Or maybe it was worse. Maybe she was hurt. Maybe something bad had happened to her and people didn't want to tell him. Hell, maybe she had decided to pull to follow an hunch in some case or the other, and now she was all alone somewhere, trapped in the cellar of some crazy psycho.

Without even answering to Rigsby's question, he turned, and run down the stairs. He reached his Citroen, and even if Lisbon's usual words- "_Don't run or you'll get yourself killed" _– kept repeating in his mind, he didn't mind them. He just couldn't, not when he didn't know what had happened to her. Her place was over half an hour from the CBI at a normal speed, but he got there in half the time, given or taken. When he reached her place, he could listen to very loud music coming from her apartment, and shivered, thinking that maybe a killer had put that on so that her cries for help couldn't be listened. He didn't even knocked at her door or rang her doorbell, so sure something had happened to her. He simply picked up the lock and ran inside.

Where he found Lisbon in pajama and with a huge, old and yet adorable robe, curled on her couch.

"Jane?" She asked, sniffing, her nose bright red.

"Lisbon?" He parroted, eyes wide. Smiling like an idiot, he went to her, and was opening his arms to take her in, carried away by the happiness of seeing her alive and well, but she stopped him before he could get any closer.

"I have a terrible cold, Jane, I am sniffing and I am not sure I am really awake… I am sleeping twenty-four hours a day and I am taking Echinacea and C vitamin, so I would really appreciate if you could take few steps back... or if you could come some other time altogether." He gave her a pointed look-the one that meant that she was saying something silly in his opinion- so she decided to let it go. After all, there was no way to reason with Patrick Jane. She was supposed to know better by now. Maybe he wasn't going to let her sleep, but she could do with the peace and quiet. "What are you doing here, Jane?"

"I was worried." He explained. She felt a little bad as she saw his painful expression. Jane wasn't… he was… though and a bit cynic, but not a bad man. And he always feared the worst, after what had happened to his family. She should have told him. Or told someone to tell him. She felt a bit guilty. "What are you doing?" He asked like he was a little child.

"I was looking at the Home Shopping network. And don't worry: I resisted the temptation of spending my whole salary on porcelain dolls." She explained. A brunette was on video at her back, selling the ugliest shoes they had ever seen in their whole life, brown and gold and with metal things and weird heels. "Now you know I am alright and watching television. Goodbye?" She was sick. She felt bad. She didn't want anyone around, and it had nothing to do with him.

Jane didn't even answer her, he just made his way towards the kitchen, and put everything in working order for getting a couple of cups of tea like it was his own place. He was even chuckling. He didn't care how much Lisbon was grunting. Now he had discovered her little secret, that at home she had become quite the tea lover. He had rubbed on her in the right ways. There was definitely working ground, considering how much of a coffee addicted she had always been..

"You are sick. Sit down on that couch of yours, please, woman." She rolled her eyes and snorted, but she still did as she was told. Before she knew it, he was back, sitting at her side with two mugs of hot tea.

"I am sorry for the other day, at _Marie's_. I was upset, and I have been horrible to you." She said, so low it seemed almost a whisper. She was getting red on her cheeks, and he wondered if it was because of the fever, the hot tea or because she felt embarrassed after such a confession.

Jane shook his head, his eyes were small, and Lisbon knew that look all too well. He wasn't just sad, he was feeling guilty. She hated when he felt like that, all she wanted in those moments was to take him in her arms and lull him to sleep while caressing his hair. "I was horrible, Lisbon. You, my dear, were charming, trust me."

"I know, but I still think that I have no excuses for my behavior." She leaned her head against the pillows of the couch, sighing. She could feel him grinning, she didn't know how it was possible, but she knew it was exactly what he was doing in that moment.

"Are you saying I am a horrible person so I have no choice but to be horrible?" He asked. He chuckled, and once put down the cup, he leaned against the back of the couch, hands behind his head. "I think you are entitled to be mad with me, Lisbon. I know that after we got Red John I haven't been…" He paused and took a big breath, struggling to find the right words. "I think my old self, the one you thought I could be. If you were… _are_ mad with me, I deserve it. With the suspension, the unpaid overtime you had to do because of me… and just in the last few months, let's say I get it. And I don't blame you. I know I can be difficult. But, that's who I am. And we always both knew it." He smiled at her, and she smiled a bit in return- the "shy schoolgirl" kind of smile – and she knew he understood why she was mad with him and he accepted it.

"I just hope" he said, patting her hand "that you'll not be like Elizabeth, and you'll eventually find in your heart to forgive me." Lisbon didn't answer him, she was just lifting her eyebrows and connecting all the known dots in her brain. Elizabeth? Who was she? When had he talked about her? Was she the mysterious woman he had been often texting lately?

"Now, now, Teresa, _Sense and Sensibility_ may be your dirty pleasure, but I know that you secretly love Austen's whole work. So, no, I don't buy, not even for a moment, that you aren't familiar with Elizabeth Bennet, from _Pride and Prejudice_. I always thought that she was too proud…"

Lisbon stood still, surprised. "Jane, you _hate_ Jane Austen." She underlined the word "hate", almost spelling out the whole sentence. But he wasn't even listening to her. Like often, he seemed to be in his own world, and he kept talking from where she had stopped him.

"Or maybe she was the one with the Prejudices and Darcy was too proud. I can never remember." He stopped, and looked at Lisbon, slightly irritated before him. She wasn't talking, her eyes were closed and she was taking big breaths to calm herself down. "What?" He asked. He was getting annoyed. He hadn't done anything wrong yet. Yes, he had "interrupted" her, but he had done it for a good cause. He had been worried for her. And she knew it. He really didn't understood why she was mad with him now.

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Jane, my head is starting to get funny. I just want to get back to bed…" She started to walk to her room, knowing that if he wanted he could let himself out on his own. But then, when she was already halfway on the stairs, she stopped, and turned to look at him. Her consultant was still on the couch, looking at her retreating form. She didn't know if he was waiting for her to get to her room to leave, or if he wanted to go through her things. "Did I ask you why you were here? I forgot it.."

"I was worried, Lisbon" He said, and then paused. "And because I want to be your friend."

"Oh." She blushed in surprise. It wasn't like she didn't know that they were sort of friends. But sometimes she forgot it. It was because of how careless he got when on the job. And it was what she had told him at Marie's, after all.

"Lisbon? Will you get mad if I ask you what happened to the guy you were supposed to meet at Marie's?" She shrugged, and didn't say a word. But Jane wasn't an idiot. He knew she was kind of disappointed. He felt a bit bad about it, but it had to be done. If he wanted her, he needed to be her friend again, first, fully and completely. "But I thought you were- I correct myself, you _are _crazy about him."

He was speaking with that tone he always used when he wanted to show her his reasoning in a case. She hated when he did that, behaving like she was a naïve idiot who couldn't close a case on her own. She decided that she would be childish, and that she didn't care. She glared at Jane, gave him her back and stormed in her room, slamming the door behind her. Not that he got the message. Half a minute later, while she was already underneath the red sheets he was already in her room. He was behaving like it was his own place. God, how much she hated him at times.

"Lisbon, if you are that crazy about him- and don't deny it because I know you are- what are you waiting for to run away in sunset with this guy?" Completely under the sheets, Lisbon mumbled something. Someone else would have never guessed her answer, but Jane was Jane- and after all, even if she didn't know it, she was speaking about him. "I'm sorry, can you repeat it? I didn't get the last part…" He was mocking her, the bastard. She was two minutes flat from taking her gun and fire at him. Repeatedly. In the legs. So that he could die a slow and painful death. She could even probably go away with murder for this one. No jury could convict her, not after everything he had done to her and her sanity. And even if they did, she was sure that Cho would have never abandoned her. She smiled despite herself, picturing her second in command visiting her in jail with cigarettes to trade in for favors.

"I said" she screamed at the top of her lugs once she had left once again her bed and was pointing an accusing finger right in his mischievous eyes' direction. "I said that I don't know him. That I never met him if not on the internet!"

But his remark never came, which worried Lisbon. It was strange. She was expecting at least a "pathetic", but it never came. Instead, what he said, was. "I am happy for the two of you. Although… can I ask you why don't you set another date to meet? No, wait-another question altogether. Why do you think you should meet him?"

He had gone to seat on the edge of her bed, one hand was on a pillow, the other was running its fingers on the soft Egyptian red sheets. Lisbon wanted to gasp, she was blushing, hit by the sudden intimacy of the situation. She didn't know what to say. So she said the first thing that came to mind.

"I'm not sure you are the best candidate to give me dating advice, Jane, after all…"

It was the truth, though. Yes, he had been married, but it had happened over ten years before. And he had met his wife through "the job", when they were teenager sweethearts. After that, it was a huge collection of murderers, mistresses of serial killers and Kristina Frey-which wasn't exactly normal, given that she had toyed with a serial killer well knowing what he was capable of and how vengeful he could be.

But Jane didn't like her remark too much, so, before she could move on with the sentence, he clapped his left hand over her mouth. She felt like sighing. He wasn't being forceful, it seemed like he was tender and gentle. His palm was warm and big, she felt like burning where he was touching her. But then, she shivered. She had felt his naked ring finger. Of course, she had known he had taken it off, but that had been on a rational level. This, feeling on her own this new reality, the knowledge that Jane _wanted _to move on, was different.

"Lisbon, we both know that if you'll end this sentence you'll feel bad for at least a month, and then you'll come to me asking for forgiveness, so let's avoid wasting time, all right?" Smiling, she nodded, and answering in kind, he removed the hand. "Good girl. Now, get well soon, all right? But take care of yourself first, and don't come back to the office before it's the right time."

He smiled and left, feeling suddenly a little embarrassed; he put his hands in his pockets, because he didn't know what to do with them- actually, he did, but he feared Lisbon wouldn't agree with his decision to hug and kiss. Not now, and especially not when she was sick. "Ok. I guess…goodbye?" He was asking her. Why was he asking her? It didn't make any sense. He hated how she could make him lose it. And at the same time, he loved it.

"Goodbye." She said, smiling, putting herself to sleep, a small sigh of beatitude escaping her parted lips. "And thanks for the tea."

Jane was right, though. She was going to send another mail to Alexanderson. And she was going to tell him she wanted to meet him. That they just _had _to.

And Jane, unknowingly to her, smiled. Alexanderson was going to be there, the next time. He wasn't going to deny her – or himself- this any longer.


	6. Chapter 5

Thanks to each one of you guys, following, favoriting and leaving reviews, especially to the guest.

* * *

On her first day back on the job after the longest and most awful cold of her life, Teresa joined Jane at the coffee cart in front of the CBI for a cup of something –coffee for her, tea for him- in the middle of the afternoon. They sat in front of the old building, in the small garden, on an old-fashioned bench. They were enjoying each other's company- something that hadn't happened in a while – and people watching. The last, being Jane's prerogative.

"So… have you heard from your friend again?" Jane asked, casual. Of course he knew the answer- he had answered her mail just the day before, with a mix of anticipation, fear and thrill- but now he wanted to see how much he had been able to get under her skin.

She nodded, humming in appreciation of the hot beverage. Jane knew all the best coffee and tea carts in Sacramento, if not the whole California. "He told me that we will meet, but that right now he is in the middle of a project that needs _tweaking." _She underlined the last part, like she really didn't get it.

"Tweaking, you say?" Jane hummed, like he was lost in his own world. He patted his lips with his right index, pretending to be lost in concentration. "I hate to tell you this, Lisbon, but I fear he may be married."

She glared at him. Right until that moment it had been perfect, of course he had to go and ruin it all. "It's a terrible thing to say, Jane. Besides, it's not even possible." She smiled, proud of herself. She could recognize a victory when she saw it.

"Lisbon, Lisbon, Lisbon, please." He sing-singed like he was a father lecturing the child that had just disappointed him. "We both knew you have never actually asked him if he was married. Now." He said, patting her legs like nothing had happened at all, all smiles and cheerfulness. "What about another cup? I'll pay." And he went back to the cart, his phone already in his hands. He smiled a bit cruelly- he didn't even had to look at Lisbon to know she was texting Alexanderson.

And in fact, an email arrived moments later. He was getting green tea for the both of them when he read it.

_I know it's probably a little late to be asking, but, are you married?_

He chuckled, and immediately went to reply. He typed quite quickly, after all these months of correspondence he had become quite the expert. The only problem was the cashier. She was looking all dreamy at him, and was going to get a piece of paper. Poor girl, she wanted to give him her number. Ah, if she only knew…

"Ah, my girlfriend. She can't stay five minutes without me. I mean, I am right before her, getting her a cup of tea, there is no need to check on me, don't you think?" He asked, as causal as possible, trying to seem at ease and a funny man. He could see her- the tag said Leah- sighing and putting away the paper.

Only then he returned to his email.

_What kind of question is that? Don't you know me at all? Wait- your friends are telling you that the reason we haven't met yet is because I am married. Am I right?_

And then, like nothing happened, he strolled back to his "victim", as casual as his usual. It wasn't like he wasn't a bit ashamed, but after all, his whole life had been about the long con, and this wasn't any different, the only thing being the final prize, her heart instead of money. He had to keep that in mind , and push the guilt away. But really, a part of him just wanted to drop the façade just to see her reaction. She was just too sweet, behaving like a young schoolgirl with her first crush. Of course, it was also kind of sad, as Teresa had gone from being a child to adulthood, so she had just left behind young love before it actually started -she had been about to marry her first boyfriend, after all. He shook his head- he had to push away the bad thoughts if he wanted to win this one.

"So, let me guess. Lover boy didn't exactly answered you, he beats around the bush, instead." He fell on the bench at her side, acting all innocent. It was bad, what he was doing. But it was terribly funny as well.

"That's the point, Jane. He knew what I was up to. He knew why I was asking him. And this is so just him!" She giggled, and smiled of one of the brightest smiles he had ever seen. She was simply beautiful like that. He wanted to see this side of this woman every second of every day. He wanted to take her in his arms, tell her it was him, that it had always been him, even before they started writing… but he couldn't. Not yet.

"All I say is, he didn't answer." He hummed, then looked at her like they were co-conspirators, his voice low and serious when he finally spoke. "Have you taken in consideration the idea that he could be fat? So fat maybe he has to be moved from his house with a crane…"

"Ok, first, it's very unlikely, and second, I wouldn't care." She was playing the role of little miss perfection, of a real know it all. He hated it. And yet, it made him shiver, in the best way possible.

"Ok, then, if he isn't putting off seeing you because he is married or so fat he can't move on his own…" He paused, and then looked away, faking innocence and sadness. " Forget I mentioned it."

"What?" She asked, but Jane kept looking away, sorry for her in that fake way of his. And she could be damned if she didn't recognize that expression. "Jane?"

"Have you thought about the possibility that he could be waiting to be paroled?" She glared at him, refusing to share the tiny detail that she, and Grace, had secretly considered it too when he had been a non-show at their date, and Jane decided it was time to change topic-a bit. "Anyway, what's his username?"

Lisbon faked indignation, and stood up, starting to walk towards the building. But after a while, feeling Jane's eyes on her, she decided to answer his question. "Alexanderson 44."

"Uhm" He said while they were waiting to be checked by security, his finger on his lips, lost in concentration. "Four-Four. Forty-Four. Very interesting. He may be 44 years old . He has 44 hair remaining on his head. He's had 44 moles removed from his face and now he has 44 pockmarks. Or maybe…" He paused, looking as he had just hit the jackpot. "His college scores? His IQ? The number of women he had slept with?"

"The number of time he had seen the Godfather? Or maybe it really is his age. Or would it be too prosaic? It's just so out of character for him…" She took a big breath, and shook his head. "But anyway, I don't care. Besides the married and jail things, of course." Her eyes fell on Jane, lost in concentration, trying to recall some random data from his memory palace-it was that kind of expression. "Jane, don't you dare telling me now how many unmarried men are currently out of jail, all right? Because I care just about this one."

"Are you saying you'd never date me?" He asked. She could see he was partly wounded, and she wondered why, blushing. Could it be that… but then, she shook her head. It wasn't possible. He had had all the chances in the universe to make a move on her, but he never had- ergo, he wasn't interested, and his declaration of love… well, even if she had secretly hoped it could hide his real (and reciprocated) feelings, now, years later, she was almost adamant that it had been something he had told in the heat of the moment, high on adrenaline and fear. Who knew- maybe he had told her such a thing because _he knew _she was in love with him, and had decided to take pity on her, thinking that it would be the last time they were going to see each other. Ah. Trust Jane to not trust his own plans; he had probably told those three little words because he thought she was (they were) going to die…

She sighed, and decided to concentrate again on "her" Alexanderson. Jane was a lost cause, and anyway, he was giving her an headache she didn't want to have. She wanted happy feelings: and those, came with her e-mail friend.

Jane smiled, wondering if her faraway look, that dreamy expression were for him or Alexanderson. Or maybe both. Maybe she had understood the truth. She was a good detective, after all, like she had always reminded him.

As soon as he was back in the attic, he started writing her- as Alexanderson.

_How about meeting Saturday, at 4 PM? There is a place in William Land Park, by the lake- the one next to the zoo. There is a white, rusty bench right before the water, close to the jogging route-I'll be there feeding ducks. And waiting for you._

* * *

She didn't know why, but that day, she was there- and she had asked Jane to drive her. They left the car few minutes from where she was supposed to meet with her date, and she leaned against the hood of his car, lost in her thoughts. Jane knew she was scared, that she was worried. And he was too- but he couldn't have her in such a state right now.

"I can't believe today is the day…" She said. She looked at him, and for a second, it seemed she wanted to tell him something. He wondered what it could be. Maybe she knew. Or maybe she didn't care, and she just wanted him-_Jane_- and not the guy she had met on that site.

"You know, I was thinking, wouldn't it be amazing- and yet strange- if we knew him? Maybe we met him across the street thousands of times, and we didn't even know it. But anyway, it doesn't matter. Because now, you are his. And he knows that you'll never be able to love anyone as much as you love him." He stopped by a hot dog tray, and looked at her, serious, and sad. This was almost it, the moment that could change everything, define them and their relationship. Love or ruin. And he still had a chance. He could make her love him- as himself- before she met the _other him_. Before… before she thought he had played her. "I'm sorry if I'm sounding weird, it's just that, lately, with you and this guy falling for each other, I've been thinking a lot and…"

She shook her head, her eyes teary, she was almost sobbing. "Don't, Jane, don't go there."

But he refused her, shaking his head in a silent no. "Lately, I've been wondering all kinds of what ifs. What if Red John never existed? What if I met you and I've never been married before? What if my dad didn't rise me the way he did? What if we had never worked together? Or we hadn't known each other for over ten years? What if… What if we were just two people, a man and a woman across the crowd, and we'd just met…"

"Jane, please…." She begged. She was fighting, and losing, a battle. And she was confused. Jane's forehead was resting against her own, and his breathing was irregular. Her palm was flat against his chest, trying to keep him away, and his heart was fast and crazy: he was as shaken by this as she was.

"I would ask for your number, and I wouldn't be able to wait twenty-four hours before calling and asking "How about coffee and tea, drinks, dinner, a movie for as long as we both shall live?" That's what I would do, Teresa. And we would never fight, if not for the remote or the movie we'd rent on the weekends…" His voice was broken, and she was close to sobbing too. No one had ever said such a thing to her. It was the most honest and romantic and sweet love declaration she had ever gotten. But right now it was too late. And besides, that wasn't their life. All those what ifs, were just that, mere speculations that had never happened. It didn't matter how fascinating and thrilling her life with him could be. She couldn't risk the life she knew she could have with Alexanderson for a fantasy with Jane. Not when, any day, he could wake up and decide that that life wasn't for him, that he wanted something more, different. God, it broke her, because she had always hoped that one day he would have chosen her, but now, now it felt… wrong? No, it wasn't that. The truth was, she was scared. Because she preferred having Jane in her life as a friend only, she even preferred not having him at all, then having him but having him resenting her eventually. But maybe…

Reluctantly, she forced him away. She covered her mouth with an hand and hugged herself, trying to not cry, but it was hard. She didn't know what to do. And yet, she did. But she was scared. And then, there was still that small hope, that dream, that stupid, childish voice in her head that sounded just like her mother, like Grace and like herself as a teenager al put together, that told her that she could have them both. That she was an idiot not realizing that it had been Jane all along. That it had always been Jane.

"I have to go, Jane. Please…." She was sobbing, and it broke his heart knowing that he had done so. But it was for a good reason. She _had _to know it. He shook his head, he was close to tears as well. And she was his best friend. She was the one who knew him as no one else, not even himself; she was the one who had changed him-who had _driven_ him to change- and she was supposed to know that he had never cried in the open before. Never. Not even… not even back then.

"Why can't you forgive me for everything, Teresa?" He asked as he lifted his left hand, cupping her face. "He left you there. Stood you up. And yet, you forgive him. But you can't forgive me…" he closed his eyes as she shook her head. "How I wish you would…."

He got closer and closer, his lips were just a whisper away from hers, but Lisbon kept shaking her head, she kept her distance, her eyes firmly closed. "Jane, I…"

"You have to go. I know." He parted, and so did she, and then she gave him her back, and walked in direction of the lake Alexanderson had told her he was going to wait for her. But she wasn't so sure any longer he was the right choice for her. What if he wasn't worth it? Maybe Jane was right, and despite the buts and what ifs there was room for a future for them. She wanted to ask him, she wanted to look at him one last time, thinking that she could understand with just a mere glance, but when she turned, he wasn't there any longer.

She covered her mouth with an hand, she wanted to cry and scream and call Jane just to tell him how mad she was with him, but she couldn't. She had made her choice, she had to go, she couldn't be late for this. Not when she had lost everything else, and the chance to love- and of being loved back- as never before was right around the corner.

She reached the section of the park where she was supposed to meet "lover boy", and started to look around, and then, she saw it, an old-fashioned white bench in front of the lake, with a man feeding ducks. A man with blonde curls and what appeared to be a three pieces suite.

_Jane._

She cried and laughed at loud, and he stood, and looked at her, the sudden movement and noises scaring away the poor birds. She was crying – happy tears for once- shaking her head in disbelief as he was slowly and calmly walking towards her, hands in the pockets of his pants. He was smiling, his smile a mirror of her own. He was happy. And it was something she decided she couldn't have enough of, never, ever.

He stopped before her, and lifted her chin with his right index, and erased her tears with a touch of his left hand. She gasped. "Don't cry, my May Flower." He grinned, chuckling, and she stopped crying. She laughed, and threw herself at him. Finally. After so long. After so many years. She could do it. He _wanted _for her to do it.

"I wanted it to be you. I wanted it to be you so badly…" she paused, grinning against the rough fabric of his vest and shirt. "I hoped it was you. So much I thought I was crazy…"

He laughed, his smile a weapon against the tender skin of her neck. "And who was I supposed to be, Teresa? Alexanderson 44… a son of Alexander who was 44 years old… and to think that I never thought for a second that Grace could plot something like that when she told me she wanted to set me up for internet dating…"

She laughed as well, and yet there were still some tears, and he kissed all of them away. She was sweet and salt and spicy and all things Teresa. She was everything he had always thought her to be, and so much more. "I don't care, we can think about her tomorrow… or maybe another day… I just want…"

"Coffee and tea, drinks, dinner, a movie for as long as we both shall live? I know. I know, sweetheart, I know." He said, completing her sentence for her. He was still shaking his head in disbelief. He couldn't believe it yet. She had forgiven him. And it was him she wanted. It had always been about him.

And then, _finally, _they kissed, slowly, languidly, without a care in the world. Still not knowing if blessing their redhead cupid or plotting revenge on her. But at least, now they had all that time in the world, along with coffees, tea, bear claws, drinks, dinners and movies... and who knew, maybe, one day, a wedding too.

And a certain redhead cupid as maid of honor.

Fin


End file.
